Dragon Born
by Half-Blood Dragon Rider
Summary: What happens to the How To Train Your Dragon storyline if Valka is taken by a dragon while still pregnant? My take on how it would change the story.
1. Chapter 1

"Only 9 months left," said Valka randomly one morning over her tea. She knew certain herbs would improve her baby's health.

"Nine month's 'til what?" Stoick questioned. Valka noticed he had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was messy, not in it's usual tight braid. He must have not had enough sleep the previous night due to another dragon raid. Although, as it strange as it sounds, staring at her husband brings her back

to the night before.

Flashback

It was just another dragon raid, and because she didn't like the unnessecary killing she hid out in the healers house. Valka learned she had a knack for curing people of their ailments.

Gothi didn't seem to mind one bit, as a matter of fact she enjoyed Valka's presence.

This meant Valka was the only woman on Berk that didn't fight, but Stoick defended her decision fiercely. Stoick's argument included that Gothi can get overwhelmed with so many people rushing into her house at the same time and at least she was making herself useful during raids.

It was only after she salved a mans face- it had been scorched by the sticky fire of a monstrous nightmare. Thankfully the man would recover.- that Gothi noticed the tell tale signs of pregnancy. Valka was paler than usual, and sweating a lot more. It obviously wasn't a fever though.

Gothi walked over to Valka and had her sit down. The healer then placed a withered hand over Valka's stomach and her eyes went wide. This made Valka a little nervous.

"What?" Questioned Valka in a timid voice.

Gothi backed away and grabbed her wooden staff that was leaning against the wall, then she started drawing in a pile of sand. Valka, being one of the few on the island that can translate Gothi's drawings understood immediately and nearly jumped out of her skin.

"I-I-I'm preg-pre-pregnant," Valka stuttered. She immediately jumped out of her chair and started running towards the door of the healers house but stopped to look at Gothi, but Gothi only shook her head at her. Valka turned around and made a mad dash towards her house. She had to tell

her husband the good news. Finally she could give Stoick a heir.

Valka ran through the fray of busy vikings who were cleaning up the village. She reached her destination and burst through the door, and stopped short. There he was, asleep in his chair,

exhausted after the fight. She could hardly blame him. He needed what little sleep he could get at a time like now.

She planted a kiss on her husbands cheek and whispered softly."I'll tell you later my love."

End of Flashback

Valka mentally slapped herself back to the present. Right, focus.

"Oh you know its not a big deal." Valka took a deep breath. How does one explain to their overtired husband that they recently found out that they are pregnant? Like ripping off a nadder's spines. (Which incidentally is one of the many outcast torture methods they use on their dragon

prisoners.) She mentally cringed at the analogy. She knew there had to be another way besides killing, but they were vikings, and vikings never, ever, backed down from a fight. Valka mentally slapped herself again. 'Curse my short attention span,' she thought bitterly.

Its time to just spit it out.

"ItsnoteverydayI'mpregnantandyou'regoingtobeafatherandwehaveachildandyouhaveaheirtopassthethroneto." Valka took a breath to recompose herself and started to to twist one of her braids nervously. She honestly didn't know how Stoick was going to react. Valka didn't think he was

ready to help her raise a kid. Always wanting to be on the battlefield and not at home.

Stoick looked dazed as all the new information hit him like a gronkle's bludgeon like tail, then he looked like he just woke out of a dream as realization struck him like lightning from a skrill.

"Wait you're preg-" Stoick started but Valka interrupted.

"Yes I'm pregnant." Valka looked up and gave Stoick a tentative half smile.

Stoick returned the smile and it reached his eyes. He carefully took Valka's hand in his and caressed it, then he wrapped his other arm around her shoulders and kissed her fully on the lips.

When he broke away he noticed tears streaming down Valka's face.

"What's wrong my love?"

Valka only shook her head and tried to wipe away her tears, but Stoick reached up and wipe her tears away for her. "C'mon, you can tell me." Stoick gently whispered.

"I'm just worried you're not going to be a good father to our child," Valka whimpered.

Stoick pulled Valka a little closer and knelt down. He then placed a hand on Valka's not-yet protruding stomach, and whispered promises about how he would never let anything happen to

the life his beloved wife was holding. Finally, he gently kissed Valka's belly.

This made Valka silently cry.

Stoick noticed a change in the way Valka was holding herself, and he noticed that she was shaking. Stoick stood up and kissed Valka on the forehead. "I promise I'll be a good father." Valka just smiled.

"I love you my child and I'll be the best father ever," Stoick quietly murmured. Then he spoke to his wife. "I have to get over to the great hall for a meeting but I'll be back in a few hours, I promise."

Valka nodded and when Stoick turned to leave, Valka whispered "I know," after the door closed behind him. "I know you will."


	2. Chapter 2

3 months later...

Stoick walked into his house after a meeting in the great hall where they had discussed, a random letter that had come from seemingly nowhere, but had a map on the back of it. The map showed

where "the great gathering of the chieftains," (that's what the letter had called it) would be. (It's at a different location everytime.)

He had to recruit Spitelout and Gobber to go with him in case it was a trap.

Stoick wished he didn't have to leave, he didn't want to miss the birth of his child. He has to figure out a way to tell Valka. His wife is in such a sensitive state, and one wrong word will set her off.

Well there she was. This was worse than getting ready for a battle, Stoick thought bitterly. Valka was at the table drinking tea and reading a book.

"Hey Valka," Stoick greeted her quietly, not wanting to startle her wife, Valka looked up and smiled at him. Why does she have to make this harder than it already is? Stoick may be able to take on a monstrous nightmare, face to hammer, but he was terrible at goodbyes.

Stoick walked over to her and handed her the letter. "Read this." Valka put down her book, tentatively accepted it, and read.

Seeing her confused expression, Stoick instructed her to flip it over.

"Valka, I have to leave tommorrow."

"What do you mean you're leaving?!" Valka shouted. After suddenly finding out her husbands departure, she was clearly mad. "How long are you going to be gone?!"

"Valka please." Stoick pleaded to get his wife to calm down.

"No answer my questions." Valka demanded.

"Alright, fine." Stoick sighed, "I won't be gone for more than 6 months."

"But 6 months from now is when I'm due."

"Stoick cut her off easily. "If I don't go, the other chiefs and tribes will wage war on us because they'll think we're weak." Granted the tribes that were considered "too easy to anger" were excluded from meetings. Tribes like the Outcasts, were

excluded from meetings like this. Thats saying something for the average viking temperament.

Valka sighed. "Do you know what this meeting is about?"

"Yes, it's about the dragon menace," Stoick replied. "We're going to be discussing allying together to find the dragon nest and take it down."

Suddenly she tensed as if someone were going to slap her, but she just remembered something. Her husband probably won't be back in time. he was already shirking his promise. She started to feel tears fall out of her eyes, but she didn't care. What if Stoick didn't come back? Her child was supposed to know his father. (Gothi had predicted a boy) None of this was supposed to happen.

Stoick wasn't just supposed to leave, especially when she was in such a sensitive position.

"Valka you know I wouldn't just leave if I had a choice." Valka's scrambled thoughts were interrupted by her husbands voice. " It's just that- well, think of this way, if us and the other tribes can get rid of the dragon-menace, then Berk at least, will be safer for our little boy."

Valka already knew Stoick was doing this for the greater good, the good of the village. She also knew that as chief, her husband can't play favorites, but if Stoick meant what he said-as he often does- then he's not shirking his promise after all. Valka now realizes how stupid it was to have so little faith in him.

As she was about to speak these

thoughts to him, Stoick went in for a kiss,

long and passionate, and when he was done he wrapped his arms tight around Valka, and said "I'm going to miss you so much," and he heard a faint "I'll miss you too."


	3. Chapter 3

Stoick and his crew-which consist of Spitelout and Gobber- were loading up the chief's flagshipwith provisions. However, Stoick was feeling very melancholy. He hated leaving his wife andnow he has to miss the birth of his son. "Ships all set brother," said Spitelout coming-with Gobber following- to stand next to Stoick.

However Spitelout didn't seem to notice anything different about his brother's demeanor. OnlyGobber noticed something was amiss with his friend, and he had a feeling what it was.

"Thank you Spitelout and Gobber."

"Well then, let me go clean the forge a bit before we go." Gobber then made a gesture that onlyStoick understood as 'follow me.'

When they arrived at the forge Gobber then began to casually put away weapons that have beenthrown about the work space. He then picked out a very dull, worn out sword. Stoick took one

look at it and told Gobber that the blade should be melted down and remade. To which Gobberreplied, "Its still sharp enough to cut deep, like I'm still sharp enough to see that leaving Valka

alone for a long time is bothering you." Gobber hinted, hoping that Stoick would open up.

"What are you talking about?" Stoick questioned.

He knew very well what Gobber was talkingabout, it was just that this is a topic Stoick wanted to avoid talking about with anybody butValka.

Gobber raised his eyebrows at him, a gesture Stoick took as 'yea, okay sure.'

Stoick sighed and finally relented. He told Gobber everything he kept from the prying eyes of thevillage. How he was worried about Valka, and how he would miss the birth of his son.

Gobberwaited for Stoick to finish talking before he replied,"look you know as well as I do That your'edoing this for the greater good. Besides, Valka will be fine, she used to be one of Berks fiercest

warriors."

"Gobber I can't miss the birth of my child."

"It's not like your'e going to miss the kid's entire childhood, just the first few days, or weeks. Ormonths."

"Not helping Gobber."

That was when Spitelout came into the forge, none the wiser of the conversation that had justtranspired. "We should probably get going," he suggested.

Stoick just nodded his head and followed, Gobber right behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

They were sailing north- not too far from Berk quite yet- when Stoick looked up and noticed alarge group of winged shadows above the clouds, their mighty wings clearing the fog. However,what caught his attention the most was a lone dragon, apart from the group. Stoick couldn't let anopportunity like this slip through his hands. He could shoot it down and the other dragonswouldn't even notice. He couldn't make out what type of dragon it was, but never the less he hadSpitelout fire a few rounds from the catapult.

Inevitably, one of the shots knocked it out of the sky, but unexpectedly the wounded dragonstarted hurtling towards Berk and the ship.

Bucket and Mulch were standing at the top of the watch tower when they saw dark wingedshapes flying towards the island.

"Dragon raid!" Bucket shouted.

"C'mon Bucket, we need to get all the livestock into the barn."

"Whats livestock again?" Bucket questioned.

"Oh for the love of- let's go." said Mulch as he practically dragged the half-wit man down theladder.

They finally reached ground-level when-

"Nightfury, get down!"

They really did have to get down. This nightfury was flying extremely low, and even from this

distance, (from Gothi's house) Valka was able to see the pain in the dragon's piercing, emeraldeyes when it none too gracefully landed on the ground, hard. When vikings started to swarm it

she snapped out of her reverie.

"No!" Valka shouted, and realizing that nobody could hear her she started to run out of thehouse, but turned on her heel to grab as much healing supplies as she could carry.Valka bolted out the door and down to the village where she had to push through a large crowdof vikings to get too where the downed dragon lay. It's wing was torn , so it obviously would

have a hard time flying away.

Valka knelt down by the dragon's side, but it growled at her."It's okay just let me help you." Valka raised her hands to show she had no weapon.

The dragonstopped growling, but it still had a look of fear in it's eyes.

Valka keeps one raised as she reached for her stitching needles. She made sure to show thewounded dragon what she was holding.

"It's okay, I know your'e afraid." Valka whispered.

Luckily she was finished with her before she was violently jerked away.

"Are you mad woman!" A random viking shouted in her ear. "That thing is the offspring oflightning and death itself!"

Suddenly she was being dragged towards her house, but not before she was being restrainedforcefully. She heard the men that had a hold of her talking to each other.

"Chief's wife or not, she's a traitor."

"She should be exiled."

"Wait until Chief hears what his beloved wife did."

There were many more comments like that being passed back and forth between the two men,but she started to ignore them. When she dared look behind her, she noticed the dragon had successfully flownaway. Valka smiled to herself, feeling rather smug.

Valka was roughly thrown into her house, and the door slammed shut, and she heard the tell-talesound of the lock.

'Great,' she thought bitterly.

The nightfury escaped thanks to that strange viking. She didn't seem at all loud, angry, orbloodthirsty. It was sad to see her get dragged off by those meaner vikings.

Then it occurred to her that she owed that human a favor. However she couldn't go back alone, she was going to need help from her old friend.

The nightfury actually happened to meet her friend about halfway back to the nest. Well, thatsaves her the trouble.

"Hey, do you think you can help me with a rescue mission?"

"Yeah sure. Who needs help?" asked the stormcutter.

"Let me start from the beginning . I was flying on my own when a small group of crude lookingvikings started shooting rocks at me. They tore my wing." Here she paused her story telling andheld out a black leathery wing, that was practically in shreds only a few minutes before.

"It doesn't look torn," the stormcutter pointed out.

"I was getting to that," the nightfury said in a rather exasperated way.

"Anyways, I crash landed on an island inhabited by vikings. They starte swarming me, and Ithought for sure I was dead. Then a really nice viking pushed through the crowd, and it helped

me. It fixed my wing."

"That's a first."

The nightfury ignored this, and continued her story. "However, before I left I saw the strangehuman get roughly grabbed by other vikings. So,I guess I'm asking that you help me rescue thisstrange human and bring it to our nest."

"Are you out of our your mind. We can't bring a human too the nest, think of how the king wouldreact."

"C'mon, please?"

"No."

"Please." The nightfury used her eyes to beg this time.

"Fine." The stormcutter gave in. "Which way is the island?"

They arrived at the island only ten minutes later.

"Which nest did you see the human get dragged into?"

"The one on top of the hill. You know the plan right?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure you don't want me to go over it again?"

"Yea, sure."

"I'll distract the other humans, while you go to the nest at the top of the hill and get the strangehuman. Use any means necessary."

"Help." Valka shouted in a panicked voice. "Someone get me out of here." She started bangingon the door, hoping to get a passerby to notice, but to no avail. Suddenly there was a loud thumpon the roof, and she could guess what just landed there.

The roof collapsed then, and the house was enveloped in the type of hot fire only dragons couldproduce. She could see it's figure through the smoke. The dragon had four wings, and the eyes ofan owl. Valka recognized it immediately, even though she has only read about them. "A

stormcutter," gasped Valka. She started backing towards the wall where the weapons werekept. She reached for a sword, only to be snached by the dragon instead, it's claws wrappingaround Valka's thin shoulders and arms. The sword slipped from her hand, because she wentnumb with fear. In one quick motion she was lifted out of her burning house.

She watched the burning village far below. There were vikings that looked up and they lookedup with shock and horror plain on their faces.

Valka closed her eyes, not really wanting to see her death coming.

A few minutes passed (although it seemed like hours) until she dared to open her eyes again, andnearly screamed. They were flying over the ocean, heading west it seemed. Interesting. When

she looked up, she saw the nightfury she had saved back on Berk, flying right alongsidethe stormcutter. The nightfury looked at Valka, as if it felt her gaze. It let out a small coo, andnuzzled her, as if it were saying 'thank you.'

"Whoa," Valka breathed. For the first time on this entire flight, she didn't feel completely scared.

Bucket and Mulch watched the scene in horror, from their place in the doorway of the barn.

"What are we going to tell Chief?"

"Nothing Bucket," responded Mulch. "Not one word."


	5. Chapter 5

There are huge mountains of ice, beautiful to look at. 'Well, at least I have something beautiful tolook at before I die.' Valka thought. Suddenly the Storm Cutter and Nightfury next to her swooped lower into acavern in one of the larger ice mountains.

Valka let out a shriek that could wake the dead. Unfortunately, all she manged to wake is someof the fire breathing residents.

The Storm Cutter noticed the human had awakened several Monstrous Nightmares and theywere all following them. He took a sharp turn into an alcove.

The strange human screamed, apparently scared to be dropped, and the Night Fury nuzzled it.

When they landed- the Nightmares lost interest and went back to sleep- the human tried to run,but the Storm Cutter blocked the exit with one of his large wings.

The Night Fury tried to distract it. She began to coo at it and generally treated the human as if itwere a hatchling.

She turned to him and said, "the human is freezing. Can you start a fire?"

"Since when were you the human expert?" The Storm Cutter asked, not too pleased he wasdragged into this mess.

"Just do it," the Night Fury snapped.

"Fine." He began to heat up a large rock and the Night Fury gently pushed the human towardsthe now hot rock, but it was still shivering. The Storm Cutter must have noticed, because heglanced knowingly at her. She then enveloped the human in a canopy of wings.

Stoick was the first to jump from the ship onto the dock, then he turned, grabbed the rope andpulled the ship closer in. He then drew his sword because he still isn't sure if this is a trap or not.

He looked around but he didn't see anyone else. He turned back towards the ship and wavedtowards Spitelout and Gobber to come down.

Stoick sheathed his sword again as Spitelout walked up next to him.

"So this is the place," Spitelout muttered.

"Aye."

Seems kinda desolate to me," said Gobber when he came up behind them. "Where is the meetin' hall anyway?"

"Don't know, doesn't say on the map," replied Spitelout.

"Well obviously, it's not going to be on the beach," pointed out Gobber.

"No really, I thought the meeting would be in that cove over there," Spitelout said sarcastically.

"Don't be ridiculous, the meeting hall would be that tree," replied Gobber, clearly not catchingthe sarcasm.

"Would not."

"Would so."

"Would not."

"Would so."

Stoick was growing frustrated with their antics. Gods, they sounded like seven year olds. He wastrying so hard not to snap, but after five minutes of them going back and forth he finally did.

"Shut up both of you imbeciles."

The two bickering seven year olds fell silent at their chiefs booming voice. Stoick took a breathto remaster himself. Then he had an idea. "Look, we are the first ones here," he gestured to the

docks with a wave of his hand. "We can set up camp on the beach because we are clearly early.We'll wait until another tribe shows up, and we could ask them to help us."

"Whoa did he really just swallow his pride?" Gobber asked Spitelout.

"I'm not sure. I have known him for almost thirty years and I have never seen him do that,"replied Spitelout. Then he added "and it's freaking me out."

Spitelout turned to his brother. "Are you feeling okay? We don't need to go back to Berk, do we?

Stoick just ignored his brother. "You didn't let me finish. I was going to say that we continue totrek forward blindly and hope we don't get lost amidst those thick trees." At Spitelout andGobber's incredulous looks he added, "I'm kidding."

"He swallowed his pride and told a joke in the same day, this must be a dream." said Gobber in amock shocked tone.

Stoick rolled his eyes, but laughed

anyway.

The light-hearted mood faded away as soon as it had descended upon the small group whenanother ship was docked next to the hooligan's ship. A man jumped out, and two dragons clad inarmor followed on either side of him.


	6. Chapter 6

The island of the meeting...

He had docked his ship and descended not even sending a glance towards the three men who hadfallen silent at this man's appearance. Although it could have been the armored dragons that made

their mouths agape.

The man just strode by as if nothing was amiss. The man snapped his fingers, and to theirsurprise and horror hundreds of dragons came flying out of the eerie ship.

They burned all the vegetation to the ground and a stone building appeared. He said thesechilling words without turning toward them. "See how well you do without me." Then he wasgone.

In the ice cavern...

Valka awoke the next morning all warm and cozy. If she didn't know any better she would'veguessed that she was at home in her own bed, curled next to her husband as the hearth warmedthe entire house. But that was only wishful thinking.

Valka knew where she where she was, and she let out a long sigh.

It felt as if it been days sinceshe had last been on Berk, but she knew that wasn't true. Only one night and she was already

feeling homesick.

The dragon behind her shifted and then there was light flooding her vision. She blinked a fewtimes to get her eyes adjusted to the sudden light. She was reluctant to get up at first, but remembering the warm, scaly mass was not her husband at all fear ran through her veins. She jumped andstarted to run towards the exit.

The Night Fury was on it's feet, and in two bounds it was blocking the exit.

Valka tried to stop running immediately, but slipped on the smooth cavern floor.

The Night Fury caught her with her snout and pushed her back so she could balance herselfagain.

She immediately began to back away from the dragon instead. However, the dragon began towalk towards her cautiously, with bright green eyes glowing in the dim cavern. Theeyes were showing so many emotions, and Valka couldn't even decipher all of them. They

showed a combination of hurt and fear.

Wait, hurt? Fear? That can't be right. Is this dragon actually afraid of her as she was of it? Is thedragon hurt because it wants her to trust it?

Unfortunately, she was so mesmerized by these eyes that are piercing her soul, she didn't realizeshe was still backing up when she bumped the sleeping Storm Cutter.

Valka flinched away expecting to get blasted, but the owl eyed dragon looked at her and purred.

The eyes on this one were reflective like a mirror. They showed her very spirit. Loo

king into theStorm Cutters eyes brought back the memories of the previous night. Only one stood out starklyagainst the others.

She was locked into her own house by the people she thought she could trust.

Trust. Of course. Relationships are all about trust.Valka couldn't trust the people of Berk anymore. That's not right. There was still three people onthe island she could trust. Stoick, Gothi, and Gobber.

Another thought came to mind. Her son would be much safer if he was raised here.

Away fromthe ongoing war on Berk. He won't be a ruthless dragon killer. Valka won't let that happen.

Valka reached out her hand slowly and began to stroke the dragon's scales.

She caught a glance of the Night Fury out of the corner of her eye, and could've sworn she saw itwink at her, as if it could read her mind. She definately made the right decision.

New friends. A new life. It's funny how things can change over night.


	7. Chapter 7

Meanwhile on Berserker Island...

Three year old Dagur was waiting outside his house for some stupid baby sibling he didn't even want.

And it made him angry.

His father was guarding the large pile of weapons Dagur had tried to use to break into the house.

He knew his father was not pleased with him. Did he particularly care ? No.

Dagur made a lunge for the weapons again, but was blocked by his fathers leg.

"Oswald come inside, but leave the kid."

The people inside his house sounded frustrated, and Dagur wondered if it was for the samereason he was angry.

He was just about to lift the ax that is lying on top when he is lifted off theground and handed to his aunt.

Dagur watched his father disappear into the house.

Inside the Chiefs House...

There is a bundle in the healers arms when Oswald walked in, and he walked over to her. Onelook at the baby's face told him that this was a baby girl. He wanted to get a better look at the rest

of the baby's features, but the healer backed away.

Oswald was rightfully puzzled by this. "Can Iplease hold my daughter?"

"Oswald?" There was a strained voice coming from the right, and for the first time since he camein, he noticed the state his wife, Alva, was in.

Alva is dressed in a blue, silk gown and her dark hair was messy and damp with sweat.

"She's dying Chief." His attention was drawn back to the healer. He gets another look at the babyand notices her chest is not rising and falling. She is not breathing. The healer followed his gazeto the baby in her arms.

"A stillborn," she said in a voice only slightly louder than a whisper.

Suddenly Alva was flailing her arms then bent her arms into the shape that is used to hold ababy. "Heather," Alva gasped out.

"Oh no, not another hallucination," the healer groaned. She then placed the already dead babyinto the dying women's arms. "I'm not sure how much time she has left, but at least they will bein peace." She then let herself out.

Oswald's curiosity took over and he peeled back Heather's blankets to reveal even more of the

little face, but the eyes were shut and will never open. This only confirmed what he alreadyknew. Although he did notice that she had dark hair, the same shade as Alva's.

Alva. He just remembered that Alva is watching this with fading emerald eyes.

He caressed Heather's cheek with his thumb, re-covered the baby, and placed her into Alva'sarms once more. Oswald then took his wife's hand into his and kissed it.

"Oswald," Alva rasped out. He knew that it was taking all the energy she had left to even speak,but his attention kept falling on the baby, hopelessly willing her to come to life.

"Please take care of Dagur."

"I will my love, and please take care of little Heather."

Without any warning Alva used her last ounce of strength, leaned up and kissed him intensely onthe lips. At last, she realeased her final shuddering breath.

Oswald finally broke down and let the tears fall. The ones he's been suppressing for such a longtime.

That of course, is the moment Dagur managed to break into the house using an ax.

It took Dagur no more than two seconds to survey the scene before him and start throwing a fit.

"MOMMY, NO!" He was very quick to get to his mother's bedside and start screaming at thebaby.

"You did this to her! You took her away from me! Now I will take something from you."

He lifted the ax above Heather's head and it took Oswald more time than it should've, and hesnatched the ax out of Dagur's hand.

"No Dagur..."

The kid started whimpering. "Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy." Eventually the whimperingturned into sobbing.

Oswald bent down to try to pick him up, but Dagur started screaming bloody murder.

"Don't touch me!" "Don't come near me!"

Oswald, a little hurt, backed away.

Dagur calmed down and ran to him. Oswald, relieved to know his son didn't hate him, bent downand picked him up.

"I'm sorry daddy," whimpered Dagur into Oswald's shoulder.

"Shh, it's okay, everything will be okay."

Oswald knew that was a lie. Alva was so good at taking care of Dagur. She was the only onewho knew how to positively deal with Dagur's odd behaviors.

What Dagur needed was a mother. Unfortunately, all the women on the island were alreadymarried.

"C'mon Dagur, we're leaving."

"Where are we going daddy?"

"To find a new tomorrow."


	8. Chapter 8

Stoick, Gobber and Spitelout made it to the doors of what they thought was a stone building.

Thelarge doors were actually set into a mountain, much like the great hall on Berk.They entered into a hollow space that seemed filled at the same time. There were large chairscircling a round table in the center of the room. At the center of the table is a fire pit.

There is movement in the corner of the room and a shadowy figure appeared. The figure wascloaked in all black, and Stoick caught the glint of something metal in the mans right hand.

Themost distinguishable feature about the man is the two armored dragons that followed this man'severy step. It was no doubt the man they saw earlier.

Ice Cave

"We have to take her to see our King as soon as possible," said the Stormcutter to the Nightfury.

Back to the meeting hall- That night.

The room was filled with people from all of the tribes in the barbaric archipelago. Well, most ofthem anyway.

"Tonight," a voice echoed through the hall. "We will discuss forming an alliance to be rid of ourdragon menace once and for all."

Suddenly the doors burst open and the figure cloaked in all black from earlier appeared, tailed byhis loyal armored dragons.

"I am Drago Bludvist," he exclaimed walking towards the circle of chieftains. "I alone controlthe dragons!"

There is a really long silence until a man on Stoick's right started laughing, then the hall wasfilled with the thundering laughter of many burly, viking men.

Then Stoick heard the same chilling words from earlier.

"See how well you do without me."

Then the hall went up in flames, and there was only one survivor.


	9. Chapter 9

The Meeting Hall- Stoick's POV

It was a catastrophe as everyone scrambled. Unfortunately the only exit is the grand doorway everyone entered from. Stoick pushed through the fray of hulking viking men, the intricately designed doors, and leaped down the stone steps. He ran a good distance before he spun just in time to see the mountain cave in. He watched in horror as one more of Drago's armored devil's flew over the huge calamity that was housing their civil meeting, and blasted a fireball causing one last colossal explosion. Inevitably, killing everyone who showed up to the meeting. Except for him. Even though he should be grateful, a horrible thought struck him.

He looked around frantically for Spitelout and Gobber, hoping to the horizon that they are still alive. Then he recalled they were at the beach. Just then, he caught sight of the infernal man who caused all this mayhem.

Drago Bludvist.

Ice Cave- Dragon's POV

The two dragon's looked at each other when the human stood up.

"How are we even going to do this?" The Night Fury mouthed to the Storm Cutter. "You know his majesty hates surprises, and we both know he is not very fond of humans."

"I'm having second thoughts about taking her to see his majesty," replied the Storm Cutter sheepishly. "But if we do this delicately, he might not have a total meltdown."

"I swear he has the mentality of a hatchling. But on a more serious note, how would we do this delicately? I think it would just make this whole thing easier if we were blunt," suggested the Night Fury.

"So you're saying that we do take her with us when we break the news. I told you not to listen to me when I'm half-asleep," replied the Storm Cutter irritably.

"Well, it was a really good idea. Besides he is going to want to examine her eventually. Also, if we show him she's harmless, then we might get off scot-free."

"Fine, you're right."

"I know I am."

The Island of the Meeting- Gobber and Spitelout's POV

When the explosion sounded across the island, Spitelout awoke from his nap with sand stuck to the left side of his face.

"Hey, what happened!? Why is the ground shaking!? Is this an earthquake!? The earth should know that this just doesn't happen." Spitelout paused his ranting to gesture to his face.

"No, Spitelout look." Gobber pointed across the small, but seemingly large island, towards the meeting hall Stoick was in.

"My brother, no!" Spitelout screamed in horror.

Just then a cloaked figure appeared before Gobber.

"Do you know anything about this?" Gobber asked calmly, while Spitelout is in complete hysterics

."There is only one survivor," the figure responded grimly. He turned on his heel and started towards his eerie ship.

Gobber turned and looked at the rising smoke in the distance, when Stoick came stumbling through the tree stumps, wielding his battle axe.

His beard is singed, his clothing torn, and several minor burn marks on his hands and face.

Stoick hurled his axe at the figure, but the figure turned and batted it away with his staff.

The figure turned for the final time, boarded his creepy ship, and was gone.

"I'll kill you Drago Bludvist, I swear I will!" Stoick shouted at nothing.

"Oh thank Thor, brother." Spitelout walked to him and punched him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, he started crying and everything." Gobber added in.

"Was not, I got sand in my eyes, that's all." Spitelout wiped the left side of his face, then held out his hand as evidence. "See, sand."

"Uh, Stoick,?" Stoick is now on his knees and gazing at the horizon. He just looked so forlorn, and Gobber hated it.

"He's really not bluffing then," was all Stoick said.

Ice Cave- Valka's POV

Valka found it strange how the Storm Cutter and the Night Fury ushered her through the icy corridors of this mountain. Everytime she made a wrong turn the Storm Cutter would put out one of his wings to block the wrong path, and the Night Fury would nudge her forward with her snout.

"Where are you taking me?" Valka asked nervously.

The Night Fury gave her a reassuring shove forward into a large, open space.

Valka noticed many large holes in the icy stone of the mountain. Inside the holes were many sets of reptilian eyes boring into her soul. And she wondered for a moment, how anyone can look into those eyes and murder the creature they belong to.

To distract herself from that morbid thought, she looked to her left and gazed at the sparkling waterfall. Before she got a chance to admire it's beauty, the Night Fury pushed her along towards a cliff.

Valka panicked for a moment, then realized if these dragons were really going to kill her they would have done so already.

Just then, a gigantic dragon rose up before her, rather majestically. On either side of her the Night Fury and the Storm Cutter lowered their heads, and to Valka's credit she did the same. All she feels is a wisp of frost in her hair.


	10. Chapter 10

The Island of the Meeting- Stoick's POV

Stoick couldn't believe it. How many children have to take up the role of chief in their villages. How many women will be left broken hearted. Such a heavy burden. All because of Drago Bludvist. All those men that burned were honorable chiefs, They deserve a proper funeral.

"We need to go back," Stoick said as he gestured towards the ruins.

"What?" Spitelout and Gobber said in unison, both utterly dumbfounded.

"To give those who have fallen a proper funeral," Stoick responded to their quizzical looks.

Gobber nodded and hobbled to the Hooligan's ship to grab three sets of bows and arrows, while Spitelout stood there still looking completely baffled.

Stoick turned away from him and gazed once more at the horizon.

Ice Cave- Storm Cutter's POV

"That was amazing," Valka said to the Storm Cutter. He made a grunting noise in response.

"You know, I've been wondering something," Valka glanced at the Storm Cutter and he cocked his head towards her. "Why haven't you killed me? I thought we were enemies. I mean vikings and dragons, not you and me personally. And if you're not going to kill me, why did you bring me here?"

The Storm Cutter pondered her questions and started cooing and chirping in Dragonese. He did so without hesitating. He told her what his friend told him about this human.

Flashback

"You owe me an explanation," the Storm Cutter demanded.

"Alright, fine. I guess I do because I dragged you into this mess. This is how it went down. I was out for a flight to stretch my wings after being cooped up for so long."

"Right that makes sense. You can't go out very much due to your current state. Which I don't condone, but I can empathize with you," the Storm Cutter added.

"No I can go out, just not as far as I did. I'm 'supposed' to stay close to the nest because it's to0 'dangerous,' according to the big baby," the Night Fury jabbed.

" Talking dirt about his majesty is bound to get you in a heap of trouble some day."

'That day is not today though. Anyway I noticed our sister nest was out for a raid on this island. So I tried to stop them, but they were ignoring me. It was like they were under a spell. Then I noticed this human doing the same thing, but her fellow vikings were just ignoring her on purpose. I was so distracted by the thought that there is a human who is not a savage killer, I was shot down and my wing was torn."

"It doesn't look torn now," the Storm Cutter pointed out smugly.

"Hahaha wise guy. That's because this human came to my aid. I was surrounded and she pushed through the fray to save me. She fixed my wing. I got away from the island, but not before I saw her get dragged to the house at the top of the hill and locked inside. I owed her. She saved my life and I saved hers."

End of Flashback

"So, she's paying a debt?" The human asked the Storm Cutter.

'Wait, she can understand me? I didn't think she'd be able to. No viking has ever been able to understand Dragonese before. This one is certainly very strange.'

Realizing he hasn't given a response the Storm Cutter grunted an affirmation.

"What you're telling me is I have no reason to be afraid?" The human asked.

'This one has a lot of questions.'

Another grunt of affirmation.

"Oh, good that's a relief. For awhile, I thought you were going to eat me or something. Isn't that crazy?" The human laughed in an awkward way that made him laugh.

Without hesitating (again) he nuzzled her into a dragon hug and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

The Island of the Meeting- Stoick's POV

"... And may they dine at the table of Kings." Stoick finished the eulogy. Then arrows were flying, and the bodies of the great warriors were burning once more.

The walk back to Hooligan ship was a solemn one. Finally they were heading home. But Stoick had a bad feeling, and it wasn't the burns littering his body. He could feel it inside. It felt like something was missing. All he knows is they need to get to Berk. Fast.


	11. Chapter 11

Two months later on Berk- Stoick's POV

Stoick docked the ship in Berk's harbor, and jumped down followed by Spitelout and Gobber. And was instantly bombarded by a hoard of angry villagers. He could hardly hear their complaints as only one thought held his mind captive. He hasn't seen his beautiful Valka anywhere in the crowd. Normally when he would return from a long voyage,Valka would immediately be in his arms.

"Where's Valka?!" Stoick called out over the noise.

"I'll go look for her," Spitelout volunteered.

"Don't bother. That traitor got what she deserved." But Spitelout was already long out of earshot.

"What?!" Stoick spat, then remastered himself. "What did you do to her!?" His blood was boiling with anger and vehemence, and despite his best efforts he couldn't keep it out of his voice.

The villagers looked taken aback by Chief's tone. Yelling at them is something Stoick hardly ever does. They all knew Stoick was beyond angry, and some were wondering if they had made a mistake. No one dared make a sound, until one old and cranky viking pushed his way to the front of the crowd to stand face to face with Stoick.

"Mildew," Stoick hissed. He was not in the mood to deal with the older man's antics.

"What more is there to say Stoick?" Mildew questioned calmly. "We all knew this day was coming. She got what she deserved. We locked her inside your house so she couldn't escape while she awaits punishment."

"What exactly did she do?!" Stoick was trying to stay calm, but it's really difficult when he has an annoying, old man calling someone he loves a traitor.

Spitelout reappeared at the front of the crowd, effectively blocking out Mildew. "Stoick your house is destroyed, and there's no sign of Valka anywhere." He took a pause and looked at all the angry vikings, his expression blank. "Wait, whats going on…

"I'll tell you what's going on!" Mildew shouted.

"Put a sock in it Mildew." Gobber responded.

"What! That woman is a traitor. She got what she deserved." Mildew added..

"No, we went overboard." A random Viking pointed out.

Listening to all this, Stoick could only conclude the worst. He left Spitelout and Gobber to sort out that mess before it turned into full blown civil war. He needed to find Valka, soon. He sprinted up the hill to where his house once stood. He threw aside the rubble, fearing the worst, but found no body.

Stoick felt relieved that Valka hasn't been crushed by the house, But still angry. No, beyond angry. And if Valka is not here, where is she? Those muttonheads better not have put her in a prison cell. This mere thought infuriated him even more.

As Stoick stomped down the hill towards Berk's prison he reached for the hilt of his sword, ready to take down anyone who stood in his way.

Suddenly, Bucket and Mulch stumbled up the hill and met their Chief halfway.

"Report ready Chief."

"No, not that Bucket," Mulch replied with an eyeroll.

"Sorry Mulch." Bucket replied sheepishly.

"Any way, Chief. There was a dragon raid and Valka was caught fixing a Night Fury's broken wing. We couldn't hear what people were saying. Later the Night Fury and a Storm Cutter burned down your house and took her with them."

Stoick was shocked this could even happen to Valka. To him. Is she even alive? If so, how to find her? And if she has been killed, should he just give up hope and move on? How can he possibly live without her and her smile and laugh? Those made every day brighter for him. These were all the questions he asked himself to find a solution.

He will find Valka and his child and bring them both home. Hopefully, it isn't too late.


	12. Chapter 12

"Who will join me in this perilous voyage the beloved jewel of Berk? I need only the tribe's bravest warriors…. Anyone who is a coward can look after the sheep." Stoick added as the crowd of unruly vikings took a nervous step back.

"She's a demon," Mildew snarled.

"Ya better hold your tongue," Gobber hissed. "Or else we'll be having another viking funeral."

This retaliation only resulted in Mildew muttering curses under his breath, and Gobber rolling his eyes. The chief just continued his pep talk as if nothing happened.

"...Who's with me?" No one volunteered.

Mildew seized the opportunity to make Stoick aware of his outrage. "We all knew this would happen. The she-demon sided with the dragons. She went willingly. We all know that! Why are we going to waste Berk's resources to save a traitor?! That heathen is probably dead anyway!"

It was at those words Stoick whirled on him. Any moron in the at least figured out their chief is beyond angry. With fist clenched, veins bulging in his arms, face red and heated by rage, and every word dripping in venom.

"Care to repeat yourself?" Stoick hissed.

"Well, I'm glad ya asked." Mildew didn't take the many murderous looks shot his way as a hint. "That she-heathen can stay where she is. We don't need a traitor leading us. Forget about that demon!"

All Stoick sees is red as he grips his sword tightly in whitened finger and lunges for Mildew's throat. For the first, Stoick feels like all his humanity has been drained from him. The blade is inches from Mildew's neck. The old man's eyes widen. Then he feels arms hauling him back. Only a small part of him registers those arms as not his enemy. The animal part still has a hold on him, and causes him to thrash and start throwing punches. It doesn't matter. None of that matters.

"Stoick, ya can't behead that vile, old man for speaking obvious lies about Valka." Stoick recognised that voice. He started to calm himself. He vaguely felt the prick of ice on his skin, the brisk wind that accompanied, and the sudden change of the source of light. The moon and the stars. He was outside. They were outside. They. Gobber. Spitelout. His rage vanished as quickly as it had come. The rage replaced by an odd sort of hollowness. He would love to convince himself that it was his blacksmith friend's voice of reason that returned his humanity. Rather it was hearing the name of his beloved.

"... and ya can't let anything that boar headed, old man says get in the way of rescuing your non-demon wife," Gobber finished his would be motivational rant if Stoick was listening to any of it.

Then Spitelout spoke for the first time, "Well, I don't think you'll be gaining any volunteers after that….. wee outburst, but I'll be happy to accompany ya brother."

"That's awfully sentimental Spitelout, you know, for a Jorgenson," Gobber commented unhelpfully.

"Of course you both will be nothing without me."

"Ah, there it is."

"Hey Stoick, if I rescue Valka can I be chief?"

Stoick just ignored his brother. "Aye, maybe we can persuade Bucket and Mulch, but that will only make five of us still." He would need more warriors than that. However, he couldn't blame anyone for not following him on this perilous voyage. It's like the blind following the blind.

"How hard could it be? With me and my bludgeon skills with you, no way way are we going to fail," Spitelout said. "I say we leave at first light, so go home brother and get some sleep. Gobber and I will rally the warriors. Spitelout, Spitelout, oi, oi, oi!"

The blacksmith and the solemn chief just shook their heads as Spitelout ran up the stairs to the Great Hall, fists pumping in the air.

Ice Cave: Night Fury POV

"I see you two are getting along. Here I thought you were anti-viking."

He pulled away from the hug to face her and gave an affronted grunt. "I was just worried about the quote-unquote 'Big Baby's' reaction."

She watched quite amused as glanced around self-consciously as if he spoke his royal, frosty butt into existence within the same chamber as them. "Relax, his majesty knows of her 'condition' and of mine too. That's why he's not mad."

"Condition? What condition?"

"You couldn't smell the baby on her? You, my friend are a failure at being a dragon."

Cutting off the Storm Cutter's retort, the human let out a great gasp of pain and nearly collapsed.


	13. Chapter 13

Three months. Three months stuck on this boat with a kid frequently underfoot, the gently nauseating rocking the waves provided, the stale food, and tripping over the kid that was underfoot.

Then there was not knowing where to go and the screechy voice of the kid he kept tripping over who was ALWAYS underfoot, which made it impossible to focus on the gently nauseating rock of the waves.

Of course there was the reason why they left in the first place. His wife and daughter are dead and it was the fault of the kid who was ALWAYS underfoot. That makes sense, doesn't it? All bad things that happen are the fault of someone in this world. A world where nothing is justifiable.

It all adds up. The kid he is always tripping over and the screechy voice in his head. The kid who is ALWAYS underfoot.

He stalked up to the kid and stopped short of tripping over him again. Dagur, who was currently fiddling with his battle axe cautiously glanced up.

Dagur took clear notice of the conflicting emotions playing across his daddy's face. "Daddy?" He asked. "Are you ok?"

Beneath his skin, Oswald felt rage claw at every nerve of his being. He gritted his teeth trying to control this uncontrollable emotion. It was at that moment from the roiling waves a scauldron leapt far above the boat, to the other side, causing a great wave, that nearly capsized the boat.

The great Berserker ship righted itself, however Oswald lost his composure. It was all the boy's fault. The boy he's tripping over, the screechy voice in his head, the boy who was ALWAYS underfoot.

The screechy voice that was now being drowned along with the boy to whom it belonged. Rather than being underfoot, little Dagur was now lost under the roiling waves.

Much like the boy, Oswald was drowning in his roiling emotions. Unlike the boy, he saw himself resurface. Not as himself but a new entity entirely. Now his emotions were seemingly at peace. He stared at the ocean that had consumed his son, because in a way it also consumed him. As he gazed at the waves that gently rocked the boat he no longer felt nauseated, but there was a new sensation. Perhaps empowerment. He wasn't sure. The sensation he was sure of though was enlightenment.

Night Fury POV

She woke early the next morning to the sound of wailing. Despite having no knowledge of human hatchlings she still had an inkling of a feeling as to where that horrendous, highpitched noise was coming from. A baby, and not the giant baby in the throne room. An actual, real life human baby.

Its a real shame she doesn't have long to live. She nudged her egg behind a rock, and left to investigate. She only had one glimpse of the human child before her final breath.


	14. Chapter 14

Stoick's POV

"What is that?!" Gobber gestures madly to a short distance off the side of the boat. The object in question appears to be a rock. An oddly formed rock with arms and legs and….oh. "Beard of Thor, it's a person! Stoick!...Chief!

"What are you raving on about now?" Stoick came striding closer to Gobber, who was still waving his arms frantically. "I can't see with your arms in the way."

Granted Stoick still had to squint because whatever Gobber was going on about was still a distance away. As Stoick's vision cleared, he was able to discern the object was not an object at all.

As the person - clearly unconscious - drifted closer and ever closer to the ship, Stoick began developing dangerous thoughts. For one thing the person in question was a child. A little red head child. This child could be his. Yes, a thought that made no sense, thus causing his next action to be senseless.

Oswald's POV

Oswald doesn't know how many hours he's been alone. Of course hours doesn't seem right either. Neither do days, weeks, or months. Of course not years, he's not that out of it. But he can feel the storm brewing on the horizon rather than see it. This doesn't mean he's crazy of course. Not by a long shot. The gentle rocking of the waves was replaced by absolute torrents of water cascading onto the deck.

He attempted to stand up, to check his nautical map. Not knowing his location, on this wide open expanse of grey, that is what's going to drive him over the border of insanity. Not even an island in sight. He's pretty certain he is not even in the archipelago anymore, but he needs to know. He needs to know now.

His attempts to reach the map were no good. The sea's rage continuously knocked him down. He had to resort to crawling. It didn't make a difference though. The map was completely soaked through. When he was knocked down again he let out an inhuman sound of frustration.

Oswald didn't seem to have the strength nor the will to push himself off the deck. That is until he saw the shadow of a great Scauldron soar above. When the scauldron dived in the water on other side of the boat it created a wave nearly as tall as the ship itself. The boat was totally destroyed.

Oswald clung to a plank of wood, at the same time barely clinging to consciousness. Before his already hazy mind left this plain of realty, he felt his fingers brush something scaly.


	15. Chapter 15

Valka's POV

"Hush now," Valka whispered to baby Hiccup. No matter what Valka did, the babe was inconsolable. It was his father's stubbornness prevailing through despite the babe looking so much like her. "There's one thing you inherited from him."

The memory of the husband she left made her wish he was here when she named their baby. She longed for his approval more than anything. She wished he could hold their little Hiccup, but more than that wished he was here to help raise him alongside her. Like it was supposed to be.

She knew at least Gobber would be happy with the choice of name, because she remembered what Gobber had said during her first week of pregnancy. How he and her husband partially soothed her anxiety, which was starting to embed itself in her mind as pure and utter fear.

Flashback

It was only a week into her pregnancy, but she was already fretting over baby names. Names were extremely important to Vikings. A name could either bring honor or shame to that family. Usually each baby was named aptly, or the baby simply grew into it. Valka had a little bad habit of screwing things up, especially when they were important things. Naming a Viking Chief's baby qualifies as one of those important things.

Gobber tried to help in his own, special, Gobber way. " Give 'im a name that will frighten gnomes and trolls. Cus' trolls steal socks, but only the left ones. What's with that?"

That obviously was not a question meant for Valka. "An' quit yer pacin'. Yer not doin' that wee babe any good, an' yer not doin' any good fer yerself."

"I know Gobber, it's just- well its just I have to name the Chief's baby. Names are just so important and"... Valka paused in her rant when she realized even only half-truths won't work on Gobber. "Fine, the truth is Gothi predicted that the babe is going to be born sickly and abnormally smaller than the other babies on this island. Valka finished sharing what information she thought was necessary. Still only a half-truth, but this time she kept an even tone and a straight face. She didn't dare go into Gothi's other prediction. That her son will be the savior of them all. Dragons and Vikings alike. Not only would he save them, but he would unite the two sides once more and put an end the 300 year war.

"Ah, yes. I know yer fear. You should know Stoick is not that kind of chief. He's not goin' to be angry with ya, an' he won't make ya throw the babe into the ocean, or abandon him on a hill to die. That doesn't matter to 'im. It's the dragons he can't stand."

Gobber was oblivious to the glare Valka shot at him, for which she was glad. She knew her husband would be furious with her, but that wasn't why she wanted it to be kept secret. She had actually promised Gothi, because they both knew the chief's anger can be misdirected. Stoick- in all his boar-headed rage- could banish Gothi. She said (scribbled) herself that she was too old to start over.

Valka was awful at keeping secrets, so she was going to end up spilling about the sickly baby in her womb sooner or later. It was in fact sooner rather than later. That is exactly what happened later that night when she and her husband both got into bed.

Stoick let out an exhausted yet still booming chuckle. "I know. Gobber explained at the forge today. Turns out he can't keep secrets either."

Valka let out a little nervous laugh. If Gobber spilled that other thing, Valka would have some serious words with him. But if that was the case, why was her husband acting so casual about it.

Stoick continued on, oblivious to his wife's jangling nerves. "He likes Hiccup as a name, although, I believe it is far too early to be fretting about names for our son."

"So you know…?" Valka tried to keep her tone neutral but was unsuccessful when she trailed off. She averted her gaze to the bed, the blanket, the wall, and anything that wasn't her husbands ruddy face. She was too scared to read her husband's expression, feared what she may see. When she composed herself enough to glance -however meekly- at his face, astonishingly there was no anger.

Stoick was smiling gently, his hand on the side of her face. "Warrior or not I promise to always love him. As long as you're by my side, I promise he will always know love."

Valka finally relaxed into her husbands embrace that night, actually getting some real sleep and carrying her husband's promise with her.

Hiccup the handful was finally asleep. 'About time,' Valka thought slightly irritable.' She laid him in a makeshift cradle, made of rocks and ice that Cloudjumper and Aurora put together for the so called hatchling. It must have been more comfortable than it looked because the babe never complained about it.

Valka left the little cavern in search of Cloudjumper because she needed a friend right now. Even Aurora would do as moody as she was. A moody dragon. That's saying something.

She finally found Cloudjumper behind a sizeable rock. He was curled around….. another rock? No, it was too perfectly shaped. Also it was shiny and translucent black, purple, green, and blue. Inside she can make out a tail, a head, and wings all curled in a fetal position. When she realized that she was looking at a night fury egg she gleefully began searching for Aurora, but when she turned back towards Cloudjumper, the storm cutter greeted her with a mournful expression.


	16. Chapter 16

Oswald POV

Oswald awoke, and he had no clue what island he had marooned himself on. He sat up, rubbing a hand over his aching forehead to relieve tension.

When he dared look around him, his hand began to instinctively reach for his sword, but found it missing. He noticed a pale green snout laying across his shoulder, leaning over him from a much larger body. Oswald scrambled until he was standing. He must have looked totally out of his realm, staring at the pale green body of a dragon-a Scauldron-weaponless, because it graced him with what he only assumed was a look of pity.

Oddly Oswald felt a strange sort of calm when staring at the face of pity on a dragon. He noticed something about the Scauldron that he was admittedly too panicked to take notice of in his previous state. Even though the Scauldron was lying in a shallow pool of water it's glow of vitality was draining from it's scales. Rather than the healthy green, it's scales were fading to a very sickly pale brown bordering on gray. Despite the shallow pool, it should have been enough for the Scauldron to sustain the green color. Unless the unthinkable was happening before him, and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

Oswald felt nothing but despair when the magnificent creature breathed its last.

He wasn't sure where the despair came from. But there is something else he cannot explain away himself. Something breathing down his neck.

It hit him like a bludgeon, and burned him hotter than dragon fire. Hotter than the water a Scauldron could spew at him. It was a memory. A dreadful memory of the events that transpired. He will never forget it now. It will stick with him the rest of his life. There is no escape.

He had drowned his three year old son, little Dagur in a fit of madness. Oswald felt tears prick his eyes as he beseeched the heavens for his misfortunes, brought down on him by himself. There is no deity he can blame. There is no escape.

Oswald has absolutely no family now. No one left. His wife had died giving birth to a stillborn. His daughter never even got to live. The only person he had left- in terms of blood- drowned because his father, the man he looked up to, couldn't control himself in one utterly sickening moment of psychopathic, murderous rage.

His guilt was all consuming. He bent his head low, hiding his face in his hands as he allowed his grief flow from his eyes in the form of fat, salty tears. He felt a deep coldness settle inside him. Within the hollowest chambers of his heart.

Oswald was so wrapped up in his broken emotions that he didn't notice the sentries surrounding the island open their eyes and flock around the him and the now dead Scauldron.

The sentries eyes began to glow, resembling starbursts. The Scauldron's body disintegrated, leaving behind a fine silvery powder. All that was left was the dragon's soul, whose form was made of water.

When Oswald finally glanced up and took in the sight before him, he got an idea. If this dragon saved him, then surely it could help him at least begin to repent. The spirit was making a glowing stream as it made it's return to the sea, for the sentries deemed him suitable for a second life.

"Wait please. I don't know for certain if you can understand me, but I know what place this is. The final resting place for dragons. Vanaheim." Oswald glanced around at the sentries for confirmation. "And you lot must this places guardians." At his observation he was met with several pairs of eyes blinking at him in unison. That was confirmation enough for Oswald, so he continued. "Please, I ask a favor of you, magnificent Scauldron. It is wrong of me to ask of you, for I have done a despicable thing. I have drowned my only son in a fit of uncontrollable madness. Please I ask you to seek ot his body, so I may give him a proper burial."

Oswald knew dragons were intelligent creatures. That's why he boycotted the hunting and killing of such creatures on Berserker Island. He wholeheartedly believed dragons could even understand human speech to a degree. But when he tried sharing his ideas on how to utilize dragons as powerful allies with various neighboring tribes, such as the Hooligans, he was regarded as a lunatic.

When one of the sentry dragons opened its mouth and words began pouring out, words he can understand, Oswald wondered if he really was crazy. The leader of Vanaheim's sentries- Oswald assumed- regarded the water spirit dragon. If Oswald really wasn't imagining things, the the conversation between the two went something like this;

"So this dragon killing viking actually expects you to find the body of his dead hatchling, who is only dead because of him mind you, after confessing his sin on our sacred land no less."

"I don't believe he is a dragon killing viking at all. He doesn't reek of violence or bloodlust one bit."

"How would you know that?"

"I dragged him here didn't I, and I did not sense any such things about him."

"But he seems so ungrateful. Would you really grant someone such as him a favor of such great magnitude?"

"I really do believe he is being genuine, and that he really is ready to repent. This is a way humans at least begin to repent. They must bury their dead properly."

"I don't really understand how burying the corpse of his hatchling in the earth is any kind of repentance, but it's your second-life, do what you want."

Then they turned to Oswald, who was gaping at them. Both the Scauldron- Yes Scauldron and not spirit. He morphed into a new body during their conversation- and the leader of the sentries of Vanaheim were gaping at him. Humans are not supposed to be able to understand dragons. This was a very special human indeed.

The Scauldron was the first one to recover. "Well judging from your open mouthed expression, you understand that I will try to assist you."

Oswald was only able to give a hesitant nod.

"Incredible," one of the Sentinels muttered.

"Humans aren't supposed to understand us. What's this guy's deal?"

The Scauldron, noticing Oswald's still befuddled expression asked, "Did you not know you possessed this ability?"

"No, of course not. I didn't even know dragons could understand human language. Incredible."

Some of the Sentinels rolled their eyes at him. Others just ignored him. That didn't deter Oswald. "So, if this place is Vanaheim, then you must be it's guardians. Sentinels.

"How did he know that?!" The one on the right of Oswald exclaimed.

"I have heard legends, passed down from generation to generation in my tribe about Vanaheim, but no one knows this place is here or if it even exists."

"And that is how it will stay," their leader, Oswald presumed, said. "If the wrong person finds this place, it spells disaster for us all. That is why you must remain on Vanaheim for the rest of your days."

Oswald didn't really didn't know how to respond, or even if he should. He opted for a show of respect. "I am content with your decision wise one." Oswald then turned to the Scauldron, and said in a quieter tone, "Please find my boy so that I may bury him properly."

"What if he still lives?"

"Then please tell him, that I am sorry, and that I love him." The Scauldron opened his, a question about to form. "Yes, Dagur should be able to understand you. I have overheard him talk to Terrible Terrors, I just never realized they were talking to him."

"You can only understand our dialect if you are very open minded. Unfortunately, many of your kind are very closed to our kind," The Scauldron replied.

Not knowing what else to say to each other, the magnificent Scauldron rose into the sky, and Oswald whispered into the nothingness, "Please find him."


	17. Chapter 17

Stoick POV

"What is your name son?"

"Dagur…. THE DERANGED!"

Stoick ignored Gobber who scoffed and continued on. Which tribe are you from?

"Oh,oh, I know this one. Wait let me think. Oh, yeah,yeah, right. I am DAGUR THE DERANGED THE BERSERKER!" Dagur laughed in an enthusiastic, maniacal way.

"Stoick, I recognise this kid. He was with his father just last year to renew the treaty. He is Oswald's son. I think you know which Oswald I'm talking about."

Stoick let out an exasperated sigh, "I know Gobber."

"Just sayin' Chief. Seems like a sharp kid is all."

Stoick rolled his eyes and returned his focus to Dagur. "Son, where is your father?"

"Daddy tried to drown me then he disappeared." Dagur said cheerfully. Then he got really angry. "He left me all alone to DIE!" Suddenly Dagur is in tears. "I want my daddy! Can you find my daddy please?" Dagur sobbed. At this point Dagur has gross tears and snot running down his face.

"Um, Stoick? A word please?" Bobber pulled him to a far corner in the hall leaving Dagur to his own devices.

"What is this about Gobber?"

"I know how you feel about that child."

"Really now. Then what am I feeling?"

"I was on that shop too ya know, and I saw what I saw." Gobber said vaguely.

"Yeah, what did you see?"

"I saw you jump into the frigid ocean, risking hypothermia. I saw you swim out to where the child was unconscious. I saw you drag the child through the torrent of waves to our ship. For Thor's sake Stoick, I lifted him onto the boat before you."

"Your point?"

"Why risk so much for a child you don't even know? What if he were Alvin's son? What would you do then?"

"That is so besides the point."

"No, that is exactly the point."

"Gobber, I do not wish to discuss this matter any-" Just then Spitelout burst through the doors of the Great Hall effectively ending the argument for the meantime any way.

Spitelout wasn't alone however. Under the Chief's orders, he found a couple who would adopt the child.

Eyvor and Birgir Ingerman walked in behind Spitelout. The couple's six month old, Fishlegs was safely cocooned in a fur, and nestled on Eyvor's shoulder.

Dagur took one look at the baby and jumped on a table and shouted, "FAT BABY!"

"Dagur, get off the table." Ordered Stoick

"Is this the child sir?" Birgir asked.

"Yes, this is Dagur-"

"THE DERANGED!"

"Well, I think he'll make a wonderful addition to house Ingerman."

Eyvor and Birgir POV

"Dagur, don't touch the weapons! Dagur put down that axe! Dagur don't throw it at the baby!"

It was almost too late. The decorative axe was clumsily arcing through the air. It would have hit it's mark, who was calmly dozing away in his crib. It was only Birgir who was on the second floor loft- who leapt from the loft to the ground floor- who intercepted it's course promptly before it's blade sliced through his baby's neck.

Eyvor's eyes were wide with shock and maybe a little fear. She never thought a child, even a viking could be so wildly out of control, so beastly, so-date she think it- deranged.

Birgir gestures Eyvor over to where he's still staring open mouthed at the deranged child, who was still panting heavily as though throwing that axe was strenuous work.

Eyvor, still dazed, points to herself in a 'who me' gesture, but walks over to her husband.

Birgir is fiddling with the axe nervously. Neither he or his wife are equipped to deal with such a problem child.

The Chief on the other hand may not have a child, but he is good at reading people in general.

"I think we should bring this matter to the Chief before we try anything else." Birgir whispered to Eyvor.

They both glance at Dagur, who had his fingers digging into his hair ready to yank out clumps, and stomping his feet in obvious agitation, with big, ugly, salty tears running down his face and dripping off his chin while screaming out his lungs. The sound was enough to make Fishlegs start screaming.

"Are you sure Stoick can help us with that?" Eyvor asked.

"It's all we got." Birgir responded.

Eyvor glances at Dagur one more time. "Well…Okay then."

Dagur POV

Meanwhile, Dagur had put himself in a corner. "Fat, fat, fat. I want to cut him and watch it all pour out." He lifted his head abruptly and crawled to Fishlegs' crib on all fours. "Or...I could let a dragon do it for me."

Dagur crawled into the crib, expecting to find Fishlegs but instead only met by a soft fur. Of course they weren't stupid enough to leave the fat baby alone with him.

He'll wait, and he'll enjoy waiting.

Eyvor and Birgir POV

"Are you sure about this Birgir?"

"Of course I'm sure. It is Berk's gripe day, after all."

Eyvor and Birgir stood at the back of a line of annoyed vikings with one issue or another.

Mildew was taking a long time in there. Figures. He's a grumpy old man with a falsely based vendetta against everyone, including Stoick.

Finally the doors swung wide open and the viking at the front of the line perked up from his slumped position, but probably wished he hasn't because he was forcefully shoved out of the way by Mildew who was rushing down the stone steps with Fungus the sheep in tow.

Birgir saw why Mildew was rushing down the stairs about five seconds later.

Stoick came stomping outside, murder flashing in his eyes. "Everybody go home." He snapped heatedly.

"Trust Mildew to make Chief this angry." Birgir whispered to Eyvor.

"This is outrageous!"

Besides that, everyone did what they were told.

Stoick POV

Later that day, when Stoick had calmed down with some whittling, there came a knock on his door. "It better not be Mildew again," he muttered as he stood from his chair by the fire. In case it is in fact Mildew, Stoick made sure to leave his whittling knife on the table.

He opened the door half expecting to see the horrid old man with his crooked sneer, but was pleasantly surprised to see Eyvor and Birgir on his doorstep. They didn't have Fishlegs or Dagur with them.

"As if reading his thoughts, Eyvor said, "Don't worry, both boys are asleep."

That was oddly reassuring, Stoick thought.

"Okay, what can I help you with?" Stoick asked of the obviously troubled couple. He opened his door wider in invitation. He then pulled a couple of chairs from his table and placed them opposite his across the fire pit. Usually, he's not this welcoming of guests, but anybody is better than that smelly, crusty, old man.

"Well, chief. We've been struggling to keep up with the Berserker child." Eyvor vaguely explained.

That wasn't enough of course. Stoick raised a singular red brow at her.

Eyvor wasn't able find the words, so Birgir came to the rescue. "Well, he almost decapitated Fishlegs with an axe. We don't really know how to handle that."

"Is that all?" Stoick asked rhetorically. "Just bring him down to the arena sometime. Have him to crazy on some Terrors."

"Is it really that simple?" Eyvor asked.

"'Course it is."

Eyvor and Birgir made to exit, but Eyvor's curiosity got to her. "What did Mildew say earlier Chief?"

"Thats none of your concern."

"We better go home, Eyvor." Said Birgir.

"Right. Night Chief."

Stoick closed the door behind the couple rubbing his forehead. Remembering Mildew brought to mind the exact details of the argument from earlier.

Flashback

"Stoick, you know we can't have a Berserker child in our midst!"

"Really. Why is that Mildew? The Berserkers are out allies."

"He's deranged!"

"Yes, I know that. He said so himself."

"And…" Mildew seemed to falter, unsure if he should say the words even Gobber had been unable to utter. "And he can't replace your child. He's not an appropriate heir. I for one wouldn't want a Berserker for my future Chief."

Stoick's blood turned to ice in his veins. He tried to compose himself before he actually took off the grumpy old man's head. Instead he only figuratively took it off.

"Dagur is not my heir! He is absolutely not a replacement for Hiccup!" Usually, Stoick is very careful about the information he gives out, but the old man is driving him up a wall and that's putting it lightly. Besides, what can Mildew do on his island without him knowing about it?

Mildew had nothing more to say. He exited the Great Hall muttering darkly.

Stoick decided to cut gripe day short. He was fuming and he didn't want to take it out on the undeserving villagers for one man's idiocy.

Eyvor and Birgir POV

The following morning Eyvor reached Fishlegs' crib, eyes still glazed over with sleep, and only stopped when her fingertips brushed solid wood and not the soft bundle she was grasping for. She didn't panic at first because Birgir could have taken him into their room and she didn't notice.

She enters their bedroom to find Birgir just putting on his boots. Then she panics.

Eyvor exited the bedroom and frantically searched for Dagur upstairs. Unable to find him either, she runs out of the house into the forest Birgir following close behind, only her intuition leading her.

Eyvor and Birgir entered a clearing to find Dagur sitting cross-legged with a Terrible Terror purring next to him, a maniacal smile on his face.

Birgir was the first to make a move. He approached Dagur cautiously. "Dagur, where's Fishlegs?"

"With my friend. The Nightmare."

Eyvor and Birgir looked just beyond Dagur into the thickness of the woods, to where their baby son was dangling from the mouth of Monstrous Nightmare. Fishlegs' blanket was hooked to one of the dragon's fangs. The odd thing was that Fishlegs wasn't crying at all. That didn't stop Birgir from rushing the beast with his axe.

The Nightmare dropped Fishlegs when he heard the angry viking charging at him.

When Birgir saw the monster drop his baby he threw his axe aside and leapt to catch him. Unfortunately the axe landed next to Dagur, sitting cross-legged, now smiling serenely as he picked it up. Then he calmly stood up and got a proper grip on it.

He let out a war cry and attempted to charge Birgir and Fishlegs. Attempted the key word because Eyvor caught him and dragged him to the village by his ear.

"What do you have to say for yourself Dagur?"

"Not sorry," Dagur sang.

Eyvor and Birgir looked at each other questioningly, not for the first time unsure how to proceed. "Maybe we should talk to Stoick again," Bigir suggested.

This time Eyvor and Biggie brought Fishlegs and Dagur to the Chief's hut. Birgir cautiously raised his fist and knocked. There was clattering from inside as if Stoick was preoccupied, which he always was being Chief and all.

The door jerked open. "What is it?" Stoick asked with vehemence. Then he noticed Dagur clinging to Eyvor's hand and his tone softened. "Oh, it's you. Come in."

The house was a mess. Parchment was strewn about. There were several marks on the walls from where Stoick's favorite axe has been embedded violently and his chair is on it's side. The decorative shields that always hung proudly on these walls were all over the floor. It was as if the wreath of Odin laid waste to Stoick's house.

Stoick picked up his chair sat down and gestured for them to do the same. Darth sat in Birgir's lap.

"So, what's the issue?" Stoick glanced at Dagur briefly.

"There isn't any easy way to say this sir, but my husband and I can't keep Dagur in our home any longer."

"Why not?" Stoick asked, echoed by Dagur.

"Dagur snuck out in the night with Fishlegs…." Eyvor had difficulty getting out the next words so Birgir took over. "And he let a Nightmare try to kill Fishlegs."

"So we are wondering where else Dagur could live." Eyvor finished weakly.

"Obviously he can't go home with you for one more night, and I don't have anyone else lined up at the moment." Stoick thought for another moment. "Perhaps he could spend the night in the Great Hall, but then he'll be alone."

"Well, perhaps he could live with you." Stoick was about to object, but Eyvor halted any argument her Chief could have made.

"Yeah, you do seem to understand him better than we do. The idea involving the Terrors in the Kill Ring could have worked."

"Not could have. Would have." Birgir finished.

Before Stoick could argue, Gobber burst on waving a worn looking piece of parchment around.

"A letter from Alvin!" Gobber declared. "Found it layin' on my work table, the filth." Then he noticed Eyvor and Birgir giving him alarmed looks.

Stoick looked exasperated but snatches the letter from Gobber's hand more peevish than he meant. He tore it open and began to read not caring Birgir and Eyvor were still in his house.

Dear Stoick,

I don't know why I bothered with formalities. I am going to get what I want. I always do when it comes to you anyway.

Allow me to jump right in. I'm going visit Berk in a month's time to collect half of a set I'm missing. I know you have it, so don't bother to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about.

Until we meet on the field of battle-

Alvin the Treacherous

Stoick tossed the offending parchment into the fire and messages his temples. "You know what Dagur?

Dagur looked at him quizzically.

"Go make yourself comfortable upstairs."


	18. Chapter 18

Johann POV

On a rocky shore, a dark haired baby lay motionless. That is until said baby struggles for her first breath.

It's ironic that this baby should take her first breath on an island not meant to support life, given the scarce vegetation and wildlife.

Because of this severe lack of life, the people who reside here survive mostly on trade, and the only trader who is foolhardy enough to dare to venture to these unforgiving shores is…..

"Johann, what do you have for me today?" Came Alvin's gravelly voice.

"I come bearing interesting news."

"Oh?"

"Yes, well I was in Berk just last week, and you will never guess what I saw."

"Johann, you know I hate guessing games." Alvin sneered.

"Oh, yes." Johann took a deliberate yet timid step back from the Outcast Chief. He nervously started again. "Well, I saw the little Berserker hier exploring their boats, Oswald nor Alva anywhere in sight."

Alvin raised a solitary brow. "You expect me to be impressed Johann? You'll have to do better than that." Alvin growled fingers sliding up his sword's hilt.

"No wait! That's not all! The little Berserker fell off the top of a mast, and rushed to catch him. That's not all though" Johann added at Alvin's impatient grunt. "Stoick even hugged him and ruffled his hair before urging him to go play somewhere else."

"You know Johann that is interesting. I won't be killing you today."

Johann's breath audibly caught in his throat and he took another dramatic step back. When he averted his alarmed gaze beyond Alvin, his eyes landed on a small,writhing bundle of furs laying a few yards from the dock down the beach.

"Hey, what's that?" Johann asked without waiting for Alvin's response, for he sprinted the few yards down the beach. If he had looked behind him, he would have known Alvin was following him. It's almost eerie how silently the Outcast Chief can move, especially through sand that is closer to gravel.

When Johann reached the writhing bundle and bent to pick her up Alvin beat him to it. Johann leapt back, alarmed by Alvin's reappearance.

"You should know by now, Johann, anything that lands on my island is my property." Alvin lifted the soaked baby girl above the trader's head to taunt him.

"But sir, that's a baby and- wait, hold her still. She looks like someone important. Those eyes…"

"You better share Johann." Alvin said, shaking the baby.

"Sir, I wouldn't do that." Alvin raised a challenging brow. "Okay, okay. I get the picture." Johann spluttered frantically. "That baby..is Oswald's."

"Oswald the Agreeable?" Alvin laughed maniacally. "Now I have leverage with the Berserker's. You're a genius Johann. All I need is the other Berserker hier." Alvin seemed to think on something. "I'll just take him from Stoick."

"Good strategy sir."

"Savage, where are you!?" Alvin bellowed.

As if Savage was listening from directly beneath the top most layer of rock that made up all of Outcast Island, he appeared next to Johann scant of breath, like he literally just tunneled out of the rock.

"Take this baby to the healer."

"Sir, you're not getting sentimental, are you?"

"Of course not, you fool. This baby is the key to ruling the entire barbaric archipelago, starting with Berserker Island."

Embla POV

When Savage barged into my house, it came as quite a shock.

The Outcasts, or to be specific Alvin, keeps me here not just for my skill as a healer, but as a medium and dragon whisperer, as they call it. I just call it being kind. It is what makes me on outcast among outcasts

But, I digress. As I was saying, it was more than a bit of a shock for Savage to pay me such an abrupt visit, not just for the reason stated above, but for the sheer fact he was carrying a little dark haired baby.

Once I recovered from the initial shock, I smirked beneath my veil of dark hair, obscuring half my face. "Yours?"

"Shut up! Alvin orders you to make this baby healthy."

"Well, what's wrong with her?"

"How should I know? That's your job." Then Savage left, slamming the door in the process, jarring the baby awake. Great.

I remember a lullaby I sang to my own daughter, before a crude and violent Outcast-not Alvin; shockingly he's above infanticide-snapped her neck, but not before carving out her heart with a red-hot blade to present to his leader. Alvin executed the man thankfully, because he was disgusted. Alvin even had the decency to tell me the reason for that man's vile actions. His reasoning was that the "dragon whispering gift" is freaky and didn't want it passed on. As poor compensation I was gifted with a baby Razorwhip, whom I named Windshear. I love Windshear, but a dragon can't replace my daughter.

Do I dare sing a single word to a song I haven't even so much as hummed in half a year? Am I brave enough?

As I am pondering this, Windshear nudges my free hand and suddenly I know what I have to do. I have to get this baby off this island. Alvin will only use her as he had done to me.

The baby's cries are gathering in strength. I have to try. On borrowed strength and courage I begin to sing the song I keep repressed in my memories.

"The sky is dark, and the hills are white,

As the Storm King speeds from the north tonight

And this is the song The Storm King sings,

As over the world his cloak he flings.

Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep

He rustles his wings and gruffly sings,

Sleep, little one, sleep"

The baby...Heather fell asleep. Her name came to me like a whisper in my ear.

I listen to her abnormal breathing, then place her gently on the table so as not to wake her after singing that lullaby. Then I pressed gently on her chest with a finger and a small amount of seawater dribbled out the sides of her mouth. Her breathing becomes steadier after that. Then I place a hand on her forehead and pull it back immediately.

I opened my cupboard and pulled out a jar of a vile smelling cream made with the sap of a Loki tree and a flower that grows only in the ice of Glacier Island. I dab a small amount of the cream on Heather's forehead. As expected she is instantly cooler to the touch.

I then remove her soaked fur and check for scratches or bruises but shockingly find none. I throw her soaked wrappings into a corner, then pull out a crate of baby clothes I never dared to peek at for half a year. Not only because of the beautiful and sad memories they conjure, but for the fact that they are physically painful to touch. I now feel the pain my daughter felt on the day of her murder. Much like her murder the pain is slow and without mercy.

That's exactly the pain I felt as I sifted through the only remaining memories of my baby girl.

I find a warm, grey baby blanket and swaddle Heather in it, despite my shaking hands.

After placing Heather back on the table, I collapse in my chair very exhausted, but I can't go to sleep. Not yet.

I beckon Windshear to my side and reach for a sheet of parchment and my charcoal pen.

The note is simple, not many words needed to convey the importance. The urgency.

I roll up the parchment and use a bit of twine to tie around Windshear's leg, holding the note steady in the coming journey across the sea.

"Windshear, please take Heather far away from this place. Never return here. Do you understand?"

Windshear's unwavering green gaze was answer enough for me.

By now it is nightfall which is what I was counting on. "Go." One simple word is needed and Windshear and Heather are gone from this place of desolation.

Even as Windshear disappears into the silvery moonlight, her green gaze is my final beautiful sight on this mortal coil.

I am roughly yanked backwards, and spun roughly around. Before my vision goes dark forever, I catch one final sight of the man who has kept me alive, compensated me, used me, and killed me. Alvin the Treacherous.

Alvin POV

"Johann, deliver this letter to Mildew. Tell him to leave it in Gobber's forge.

"Will do. One question though. Which one is Mildew?"

"Sir?" Savage nudged Alvin and pointed into the night sky, only illuminated by a crescent moon. There is a silver dot gaining altitude. Then an acid green eye was revealed to Alvin, and an oddly shaped, yet familiar bundle clutched in the dragon's claws.

"Razorwhip." Alvin hissed.

Alvin decided it has been a long time since he has visited Embla. He turned without saying a word to Johann or Savage and marched up the rocky path to the healer's house, sword gripped tight in his fist.

Tonight Embla dies a traitor to the Outcasts.


End file.
